


Comings and Goings

by Phoenix0in0the0dark



Category: The Mortal Instruments
Genre: Ethan's a little shit and not in a good way, F/M, Graphic flashbacks of abuse, Highschool AU, Jace is a little shit in a good way, Jonathan and Sebastian are Clary's awesome brothers, Jonathan and Sebastian are good, Slow Burn, i have no idea where this story is going, mentions of abuse, or these tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7603480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix0in0the0dark/pseuds/Phoenix0in0the0dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clace story. Highschool AU. Jace wants to get to know Clary better, but she has her walls up, and for good reason. More chapters to come. I own nothing, Cassandra Clare owns characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

Clary’s POV:  
I’ve not lived many years. Only 17, actually. But, in that short time, I have met the most infuriating person in the world. Jace Lightwood. He goes to my school, and lives to embarrass me. You know, like in school, or home, or work, or any other important sphere of my life. URGH. Just thinking about him makes me itch to slap that idiotic grin off of his face. Uh-if you haven’t noticed, I don’t particularly like him… I don’t know why, his personality grates on my nerves. Regularly… persistently… repeatedly. 

Anyways, I should introduce myself. My name is Clarissa Fray, but people call me Clary. I am an aspiring artist, short, red-headed, fairly badass and I have a short temper. Thought you should know, and yes, there is a reason I am this way, but I won’t get into that now. I go to Nephilim High. I know right, weird name. My best friend is Simon Lewis, but he’s so nice to me I’m okay with my friend tally being in the low single digits. I have about 2, maybe 3 actual friends, not including my two twin brothers; Sebastian and Jonathan (twins with each other, not with me). I live with my adoptive dad; Luke Garroway. There. There’s the introduction, let’s get on to the story.

Let’s see it was…before fourth period when I met the devil incarnate-er-I mean Ethan. His name is Ethan. I was where I always was when the little creep came up to me: talking to Simon by my locker. Or, more accurately, complaining to Simon about other people. 

“I mean, seriously, who assigns twelve pages of a poem for homework?”

“I-“

“Mr. Schneebly, that’s who,” I interrupted Simon, “Is his sole purpose in life to torture kids and act as if they don’t have any plans?”

“Did you have any plans?” Simon countered.

“Well…no. But, that’s not the point. The point I-“

“Well, hello there,” I heard the most conceited voice say behind me. I spun around to see him looking at me. I looked over my shoulder, and in the hallway to see if he was talking to someone else. He wasn’t. Lucky me. He smiled a disgusting smile as if I were a lottery winner lucky enough to capture his attention for a moment. Asshat.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” I tried to smile sweetly, and not immediately threaten Ethan. Simon says I’m too prickly with other people. That’s bull. I am appropriately prickly to other people.

“Yes, I was just about to ask if I could walk you to your next class.” He smiled that slimy smile again, and my stomach contracted. 

“Thanks, but I’m walking with Simon.” I said, jerking my head in Simon’s direction, making it clear who I was talking about. When he just stood there, smiling, I said “So…I’m gonna…go. See you around.” I grabbed Simon’s elbow and dragged him towards fourth period Spanish.

Of course, Ethan followed me with his eyes, but stayed rooted to the floor. My bad luck and horrible attention span chose to act up then, and I dragged Simon along with me as I ran right into another person. Well, I ran into his chest. I looked up to see my neighbor, Jace Lightwood, staring down at me. Simon yanked me off the ground when Ethan made a move towards us and dragged me out of there. But, my green gaze was still locked with Jace’s golden one and I only tore it away when we turned the corner.


	2. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All memories and/or thoughts will be in italics

Clary’s POV

                I was still fuming about my little run in with Ethan when I finally sat down in Spanish. My only “friend” in this class was my neighbor, Isabelle Lightwood. I didn’t see her much, but she made the class bearable, and let me tell you, Spanish was not a bearable kind of class. I was only taking it for Luke. I sat at my usual seat in the back corner, next to the window. I stared outside at the tree, my earphones dangling around my neck, one in my ear. I felt the urge to sketch the tree in black and white, then a muted shading of green around the edges of the leaves. Often, I would lose myself in my thoughts when I was drawing, painting, or listening to music.

So, because of this, I didn’t notice that someone had approached me until they cleared their throat. I yanked the earphone out of my ear and looked up expecting to see the teacher yelling at me. Instead I was treated to the sight of a very shiny Isabelle _click-clack_ ing her way across the tiled classroom in 6 inch high stilettos, a sparkly skirt that exposed way too much, and a blindingly rainbow yet stylish top. _Only Isabelle could wear that and have no one think twice about it_.

“Clary, what are you doing?” Isabelle tried for a reprimanding tone, but a playful grin betrayed her intentions.

“Oh, Isabelle, whatever it is, it’s probably wrong. Isn’t it?” she smirked at me and skillfully _click-clacked_ her way into the seat managing to look professional, yet mysterious. She smirked and started to scrutinize her nails, as if they were not perfect. I smiled and went back to imagining my own sketch of the tree outside.

I heard someone approach again and looked up expecting to see the teacher or Isabelle, but instead saw Jace Lightwood staring at me with that golden stare. I blushed and wrenched my gaze away towards the window.

I heard him talking to Isabelle and tried to sink further into my own thoughts.

 

**Time Skip**

                It happened again today. Ethan grabbed my arm in the hallway, and it took all of my resolve not to wrench my arm away and run screaming down the hallway. When I finally got back home, I had a flashback halfway up the stairs…

                _He grabs my arm violently, and I try to jerk away. His iron vice-like grip digs into my skin and he drags a six-year old me away crying. When we reach my room, he dumps me in, and then locks the door behind him. My tears cloud my vision, but I see a blur coming at me. I hear a resounding_ crack _as he openhandedly slaps me. My cheek turns read and stings, but I don’t make another sound._

_The man, Valentine, glares at me in my defeated state on the floor and bends down to punch me in the face. I want to curl up and die, but that won’t work; he’ll just hurt me more. I roll over so I can see him and he kicks me in the stomach. I swallow my sob and clutch my stomach._

_I am openly crying now, but I don’t care. He sneers at me._

_‘You can’t run, you can’t hide. You are_ mine _and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. I will always be here. I will always be here to own you, you miserable little wretch.”He smiles and walks out, slamming the door behind him. Blood drips down my chin and I start to lose consciousness. The last thing I hear is my 9 year old brothers, Jon and Seb, yell at the man to leave me and my mom alone._

 _I think of how I don’t understand what I did wrong. What could anyone have done to deserve this? And what kind of a person do you have to be to inflict this pain on your own_ daughter _. I drift off to the sweet relief that sleep brings._

                I wake up crying on my bed, but I can’t remember how I got there. I feel another presence in the room and roll over to see both of my brothers looking at me. They must have found me passed out on the stairs and brought me into room. They are both very protective of me since I was the only one, aside from my mother, who was abused by my father. We don’t talk about it much, really only when I have a flashback. I am so grateful to have them. If I was alone, I don’t know where I would be. Well…I have an idea, probably six feet under. I don’t know what I am going to do about these nightmares…they’re horrifying.

                “Are you okay?” asks Jonathan. I nod, but I can see that they don’t believe me. Out of nowhere, a sob rises in my chest like a bubble to the surface and breaks free. I clap my hands over my mouth, ashamed. Sebastian sweeps me up in a hug before I can react and Jonathan rubs reassuring circles on my back.

                I whisper to myself that I am okay over and over again trying to trick myself into believing it. It doesn’t work.


	3. Close Encounters

Clary’s POV

                A week later at school, I was wandering the halls before school looking for Simon when I feel someone watching me. I look around, but the hallway is empty. I turn around again, and Ethan is there. I try to move past him, but he catches my wrist and pulls me back. I try to fight down a wave of nausea at the grip on my wrist and the person gripping it.

                “I haven’t seen you since Wednesday, where have you been?” he whispers in my ear.

                “Get away from me” I try to sound confident and unfazed, but my voice doesn’t come out higher than a whisper. School didn’t start for another 45 minutes, so I didn’t expect any help. I glance over his shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of somebody, _anybody_ , walking down the hall way to call for help. Ethan catches this silent plea for help and shoves me into the wall.

                “What do you think you’re looking at?” He sneers at me. In a last bid for freedom from the douche, I throw my books at him and book it around the corner. I’m fast, but, he’s faster. He grabs my wrist and pushes me against a locker. My head hits the dense metal, and I let out a groan. That was my mistake. Ethan loves weaknesses in other people that he can exploit. He smiles a slimy smile at me and pins my wrists to the cool metal behind me. I knee him in his—ah—special spot as hard as I can. He doubles over against the corner and I sprint down the corridor, aiming for the girl’s bathroom. Even _he_ won’t go in there.

                I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I smooth my hair down and brace myself to walk out, knowing that he is out there somewhere. I walk out of the bathroom with as much dignity as I can muster and straight into Isabelle. She had been about to walk in before Clary had run into her.

                Isabelle, being—well— _her,_ sensed there was a problem immediately. When I hastily turned to walk away, Isabelle blocked my path.

                “Clary, what happened?” she demanded.

                “Nothing,” I lied. I had been lying about things like this since I was little, but nothing got past Isabelle. She sighed.

                “All right, if you’re going to be like that.” She dragged me back into the bathroom despite my protests.

                “All right Fray, spill.” She looked at me with that no BS look, and I crumbled. I didn’t cry, but I told her that Ethan had tried to hurt me, but he hadn’t succeeded. Again, I tried to pass off nonchalance, but she noticed that there was more to the story than I was letting on.

                “Clary, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what I’m helping you with,” she pleaded.

                “Isabelle, I won’t tell you what’s going on if there isn’t anything,” I whined. I could handle this on my own. She glared at me, whether she was trying to get me to confess through intimidation or sheer force of will, I don’t know.

                “It’s nothing.” I tried again to ease her concern. She wasn’t trying to pry—no wait—yes, that’s exactly what she was doing. If anyone else (other than Simon) had tried this, I would have taken them out. But, Izzy was like a sister to me. An annoying, irritating, yet well meaning sister, sure, but, still, a sister nonetheless. She gave up and glared at me as she let me slip past her into the now crowded hallway.

                When I got to my locker, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Simon grinning at me. I gasped and jumped at him to give him a hug. I hadn’t seen him in a week because he was ‘touring’ the country with his band, The Rotting Orange Peels. I wish I could say they were better than their name insinuates, but I can’t say that in a way that isn’t sarcastic or outright lying. I pulled back and thought I felt someone looking at me. I looked around and only saw a group of guys looking—was that jealousy in their eyes?—murderously at Simon.

                “How’ve you been Fray?” Simon asked.

                “I’m in school at 7:30 in the morning, how do you think I’m doing?” I joked. He smiled at me and took my books so we could walk to first together. I was going to tell him about my—ahem—encounter with that slime ball, but I didn’t have it in me to ruin his good mood. He put his arm around me, balancing my books with one hand, and we walked towards our first period class.

                With my best friend next to me, I could ignore all of the other things wrong with my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola, amigos, so this one is short, but I have major writer’s block and not many people follow this one anyways, so… Yeah. Anyways, I’m going to try to get into Clary’s tragic, cliché back-story and, of course, more Clace. ;)  
>  -Phoenix


	4. Voices

Clary POV

                I was wrapped up in my conversation with Simon when, again, I felt someone staring at me. I felt a blush creep up my pale cheeks, but I refused to give whoever it was the satisfaction of seeing me embarrassed. So, I steeled myself and looked straight up, determined to show this person that I had the temper to match my hair. I looked up to find myself drowning in the smoldering golden orbs of Jace Lightwood’s eyes. My insides were telling me to shrink myself down into my seat smaller than is humanly possible and become as small and insignificant as possible. But, I was stubborn, so I sat up straighter and stared back at him, accepting the challenge.

                He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement and I instantly scowled. My seeming curse of a lack of coordination with my eyebrows was apparent. I had always wanted to be able to do that. He smirked, but glanced away when the bell rang. When he looked back, I raised my eyebrows and cocked my head as a show of my victory in our little contest. He nodded his head in a mock bow. I smirked back at him and looked ever my shoulder at Simon who was staring sourly at Jace across the room.

**Time Skip**

                I was back in my room, staring at my ceiling and trying to get up the courage to face my Trig textbook again when my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I held it to my ear with my shoulder while I got off my bed and walked over to where my backpack was lying on the floor.

                “Hello?” I said, hefting my bag up to find my sketchbook.

                “ _Clarissa._ ” The voice washed over me in a wave of dread and apprehension so quickly I dropped my phone and bag. My legs gave out and I slid to the floor along with my bag, staring at the blue, doodle covered cell phone that had fallen to the carpet a foot away.

                “Clary? Hello?” Simon’s voice flooded through the small speaker on my phone and I audibly sighed in relief.

                “You okay? Clary, you’re starting to freak me out…more than usual, I mean.” I picked up my phone and sat on my bed, rubbing my forehead.

                “Hey, Simon, sorry, my phone slipped out of my hand,” I mumbled out the lie.

                “That’s fine, just don’t go senile on me yet, Fray,” he joked. I could practically see him smirk at his own joke through the phone.

                “Ha Ha, Simon.” I rolled my eyes, and then realized he couldn’t see me.

                “I’m rolling my eyes at you, Simon.”

                “I figured,” he responded. I joked with him for about an hour since he had called me to avoid Spanish homework, which I totally understood. *cough trigonometry cough* I tried to keep the conversations and my tone lighthearted, but I couldn’t help but think about how badly that voice had really shaken me up. It wasn’t a voice I wanted to hear.

                It was the voice of my father, Valentine Morgenstern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya, so like I said: short. But, it was better than nothing. Let me know if you have any suggestion for how Clary and Jace should get together. There has to be that awkward meeting where they are forced to work together sometime, right? See you later.  
>  -Phoenix


	5. Assignment

Clary POV:

                I love art…when I’m on my own. When I’m not…well, I still like art, just not whoever’s looking over my shoulder. Anyways, I was sitting in Art class for seventh period when my teacher, Mrs. Fischer, gave our class the news.

                “Your next assessment will be one I thought of myself.” I groaned, she was nuts. She smiled at us, and resumed her speech.

                “You are going to pick a partner,” people immediately began to look at their friends while I slouched lower in my seat. I didn’t really like any of the people in this class. Even Isabelle dropped out because she thought Mrs. Fischer was insane. “of the opposite gender,” we all groaned, “and sketch a pivotal moment in your life. Make it something that makes you unique.” She smiled again, looking pleased with herself. I glanced around the room to see my options. Most were taken, though I wasn’t particularly upset about it.

                On my left, I saw a shock of black, greasy hair. When the crowd parted somewhat, I saw Ethan sauntering towards me with a disgusting grin on his face. Panicking slightly, my eyes darted around looking for an escape, but I was boxed in by people.

                “So, Clary…” He began.

                “What?” I asked, impatience and annoyance were seeping into my voice, but I didn’t care at that point.

                “I need a female partner…”

                “Yes?”

                “and you need a male partner…”

                “And?”

                He rolled his eyes at me, annoyed. I glared right back, letting my distaste for him show plainly.

                “And, I thought we could do it together.” Then, he moved too close for comfort. “Plus, I want to get to know you better.” He smiled at me again, boy, he was all smiles today.

                “Well, uh…you see…I—uh…I…already, you know, have a partner….?” It came out like a question. His smile twisted into a scowl.

                “Who? You were sitting there the whole time, I saw you.” He huffed under his breath and I cursed under mine. I was hoping he would just buy the lie.

                “Um…you see…I—“

                “I’m her partner.” I craned my neck up to see who had saved me from an awkward explanation. From my vantage point sitting down, I couldn’t see his face until he looked down at me. My emerald eyes locked onto his gold eyes. I fought back a sigh.

It was Jace Lightwood.

Of freaking course. Oh well, out of the frying pan and into the fire, I guess.

                “But, you didn’t even talk to each oth—.” Ethan spluttered, his eyes darting back and forth between us.

                “Didn’t need to,” I cut him off quickly, “we’re gonna go…work…on the thing.” He just stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

                “Um…okay.” I muttered under my breath. I ducked past him, dragging Jace along by the wrist. I towed him to a corner of the room that was considerably less crowded than the rest of the room.

                “Listen,” I began sheepishly, “thanks, you know, for saying you were going to be my partner for this thing.” Even if I didn’t particularly like Jace, at ALL, he had still done something for me; I owed him an apology at least.

                He smirked at me. The idiot SMIRKED at me. Of course he did.

                “You looked like you needed saving,” He said.

                “And you think yourself as, what? As a knight in shining armor?” My irritation was shining through my civility.

                He smirked again.

                “Don’t you?” He glanced at me with those gold eyes and indignation shot through me at his words.

                “I don’t th-” I cut off the rest of my exclamation when he had the nerve to look amused at my exasperated rambling. I cleared my throat awkwardly, fighting off a blush that was threatening to color my cheeks as bright as my hair.

                “Anyways, I’ll go find a…partner now. Thanks for your help.” I turned away slowly, chewing my bottom lip, wondering who else I dared to work with.

                Suddenly, I found myself spun back around, facing Jace, with his hand encircling my wrist.

                “Sorry, little girl, but, you’re stuck with me for this one.” Ignoring the annoyance at his apparent nickname for me, I glanced around. It was true; everybody else was paired up with someone else, even the girls who seemed to glare at me for taking Jace away from them. I rolled my eyes at them and turned back to Jace.

                “All right then.” The bell rang, and I turned to walk away from him. But, my red headedness got the better of me and I spun on my heel back towards Jace.

                “And by the way, my name is not ‘little girl’. It’s Clary.” He grinned at me.

                “I know. I’m Jace.” I crossed my arms over my chest in defiance to his apparent amusement.

                “I know.” With that, I walked out of the now empty classroom, slinging my bag over my shoulder and settling my books in the crook of my elbow.

                Walking out of the room, I missed the small smile that curved his mouth and the glint in his gold eyes.

On my way to my car to leave I stopped dead in my tracks. I went over Mrs. Fischer’s words from class: “ _sketch a pivotal moment in your life. Make it something that makes you unique…”_ Oh, crap. Something “pivotal” in my life and makes me “unique” means telling him my back-story, something I was not prepared to do. I’m going to say it again: Oh, crap.

Just thinking about this stupid project had me raking my fingers through my hair in my panic. I closed my eyes tightly, standing in the middle of the sidewalk just a block past the school. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

Squaring my shoulders, I inhaled again and yanked my car door open, plopping my bag and myself inside. Usually only art could calm me down when I got like this, but that would just drive the problem to the front of my mind, so I settled on something that had never let me down: music.

                I plugged in my IPod and scrolled through my playlists until I found the one I was looking for. Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol blasted through my speakers and through my mind. The song always managed to calm me down. It reminded me of how love was still a possibility. The song captioned how I thought love should truly feel like.

_I don't quite know How to say How I feel_

_Those three words Are said too much They're not enough_

_If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

_Forget what we're told Before we get too old Show me a garden_

_That's bursting into life_

           

I pulled out of the parking lot and drove home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so just for you guys, I’ve been trying to write longer chapters and space them out more because I know how much I hate reading ginormous paragraph after ginormous paragraph. Let me know what you think. REVIEW!!! The more reviews I get, the faster I update!! Yes, I’m holding my stories hostage.  Wouldn’t you?  
>  -Phoenix


	6. Break Down

Clary’s POV:

                I let myself cry.

                The nightmares had come again and held me in their iron grip, not letting me go. I never stood a chance. I don’t know why I let myself believe I ever had a chance.

                My sobs shook my body, but they were soundless. They were the result of a girl who had taught herself not to disturb others with her cries. When the hiccupping ceased and my body stopped convulsing, I fell back into my bed.

                Looking at my clock, I saw that it was 1:30 in the morning. I threw a hand over my eyes and released my mind into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

                Waking up, I felt normal. It was just another day, until I thought about yesterday. Art. Right. Crap.

                I drove to school alone, having avoided my brothers that morning. I couldn’t bring myself to tamper their happiness and freedom with my insignificant issues. I also knew that if they found out that I had been sad without telling them, they would be…less than happy. They were always concerned about me. In short, they were such BROTHERS. It was endearing, really.

                Walking to class, I was too distracted to notice that I was on a collision course with Kaelie, the head slu—um, the girl who is known for her activities in the bedroom. I was stuck in my own little world when she tripped me, sending me hurtling into the metal lockers. I clutched my books to me, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing my arms pin wheeling desperately in the air and my stuff scattered on the floor.

                I squeezed my eyes shut and prepared for the inevitable impact.

It never came. I opened my eyes to find myself fallen into someone’s embrace. I was held, suspended from crashing into the lockers or ground, by two muscular arms. I looked up to see who had, ultimately, saved me.

                Jace Lightwood, of freaking course it was him.

                He smirked and held me lightly, but firmly away from him before releasing my elbows and turning to look at Kaelie. She was openly staring at him, no doubt furious for depriving her of her entertainment. She shut her mouth with an audible clack and stomped away, but not before glancing at Jace and mouthing “ _call me”_ at him.

                I rolled my eyes at her and braced myself to face Jace.

                “Why didn’t you try to stop yourself?” I turned to face him.

                “She wanted me to look stupid flailing around.”

                “Hmm. Well, if you’re going to cut off your nose to spite your face, I’m not going to be one to judge.”

                “I wasn’t spiting myself, I was spiting her,” I huffed.

                “And what was your plan? Not to look stupid by smashing into the lockers face-first?” I looked up at him.

                “Why did _you_ stop me from ‘smashing into the lockers face-first’?” He looked down at me, saying nothing.

                “Fine, don’t tell me. I don’t care.” I narrowed my eyes at him. Then, I walked away. He didn’t move.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Jace POV:

                I looked at her walking away. I wasn’t really sure why I had saved her. It’s not like I like her. She’s just so…so…unsettling.

                I blinked, coming to my senses. It didn’t matter. I’m captain of the football team. I can have any girl I want. Life is good, as far as I’m concerned.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Clary POV:

                I walked away quickly, dodging the people who were too enthralled with themselves to notice the five foot four girl weaving her way through them. I hate being short.

                “Clary. Clary!” I whirled around to see Simon on the other side of the hall shouting my name and waving frantically. I made my way over to him and jumped into his arms for a hug. Simon was my best friend, like a brother. He was dating Izzy…which made me the third wheel.

                “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever!” I looked up at him, what was he talking about?

                “You haven’t responded to any of my calls or texts.” My eyes widened. Crap, my phone broke when I dropped it in the gutter last week. I just got it fixed yesterday.

                “I’m so sorry, I forgot to tell you. My phone broke for, like, a week.” He sighed when I said this.

                “You know I get worried about you.” This time, I was the one who sighed. Simon always worried about me; he was as bad as my brothers. He knew that something had happened to me in my past, but not what, specifically.

                “I know you do.” I smiled up at him, trying to ease his fears.

                He shook his head at me, and swung his arm around my shoulders. I leaned against him, fighting off a yawn.

                “Why so tired? Nightmares?”

                I nodded.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Clary POV:

                I walked out sixth period only to be cornered, once again, by Ethan.

                “I’ll walk you to Art.” He walked along side me without invitation, and since I couldn’t think of an excuse, I put up with it. Against my will, I yawned.

                “What’s wrong? Stayed up late last night dreaming of me?” I scoffed.

                “More like nightmares if you were in them.” I was hoping to get him off my case. Sadly, this didn’t deter him, he only smirked.

                “Ah, yes. I heard about those. What nightmares have you been having? Scared of something?” By now he had walked towards me so much he backed me into the corner. He put a hand next to my head and lowered his head so we were eye to eye.

                “What keeps you awake at night?” He asked an innocent enough question, but the tone sounded more like a threatening promise.

                I was too confused about his newfound knowledge to return to my usual sarcastic self, so all I could do was splutter.

                “What are you talking about?” I managed to get out.

                “Don’t bother denying it, I heard you talking to that rat looking boy in the hallway.”

                “You were stalking me? What the hell?!”

                “I know you have nightmares. You want everyone to think that you’re tough, but you’re not. You’re weak. You’re a weak little girl. You’re not untouchable, no matter how much you want to be.” I wanted to yell at him, to scream that he was wrong and kick him where the sun don’t shine…but, I couldn’t. My voice was stuck in my throat. I choked on my shame. I couldn’t help but feel that he was right. I _was_ weak. I was worthless. It’s been said to me enough times, maybe I should start listening.

                I sunk to the ground, whimpering. I was sure I was crying, but I was preoccupied squeezing my eyes shut and clamping my hands over my ears to block out the internal accusations as much as the external ones. I glanced up to see Ethan standing above me, triumphantly.

                He squatted down to be eye level with me once more. He took a curl of my hair between his thumb and index finger, rolling it around.

                “You see, right now, you’re nothing, no one. But, if you would just become mine, then you could be popular. You could be worth something.” Then he leaned in really close and spoke in my ear. “And, I can keep you awake so the nightmares don’t keep you up. You’ll like it, I promise.” I whimpered again and buried my face in my knees, bracing my back against the corner.

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Jace’s POV:

                I walked around the corner, hearing someone talking. That was kind of odd; there was no one around this side of the school. These classes were all done for the day. I was rushing along, late to art because Seelie Queen, a cheerleader, had stopped me in the hallway for, like, ten minutes.

                I **_heard_** a voice saying some very unkind things and I was about to walk away, but then a heard a whimper. Oddly enough, I could tell who it was just by that.

                I walked a little faster, and saw them. Ethan was standing over someone; he must have been the one speaking when I first heard them. Then, I saw Clary. She was on the ground, not looking up, and whimpering. She looked like she was trying to be so small, she became invisible. The sight made me angrier than I care to admit.

                As I neared them, I heard the end of their “conversation”.

                “…You see, right now, you’re nothing, no one. But, if you would just become mine, then you could be popular. You could be worth something. And, I can keep you awake so the nightmares don’t keep you up. You’ll like it, I promise.” She whimpered again, and I saw red.

Growling, I swung my fist and it smashed into his nose, knocking him off his feet. He flew back into the lockers and I spun around to face him. I contemplated smashing my boot into his broken nose, but I heard Clary and spun around to tend to her instead.

She was openly crying now, but she stayed curled up in a little ball.

I crouched down in front of her.

“Clary, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” I realized that that was a stupid question, of course she was hurt.

                She looked up at me with tear soaked eyes. At first, she just stared at me, not understanding. But, then she whispered my name, like a question, and immediately started wiping her tears off her face and smoothing her hair back.

                “Um, what are you doing here?” she asked me, not quite meeting my eyes. I ignored her question.

                “Are you okay?” She glanced up at me quickly, then looked back down, pretending to busy herself with standing up and brushing off imaginary dirt.

                “I’m fine, I have to get to class.” She made to walk away, but I grabbed her arm. Bad move. Less than a second later, I was on the ground. Whoa.

                She had spun, swept my leg, and punched me in the gut as I went down, in, like, 5 seconds. Her eyes widened.

                “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I’m sorry.” She stammered out an apology and grabbed my hand to help me up. When I was on my own two feet, I watched her. She was still spluttering her apologies, tears were still streaming down her face, but she didn’t seem to notice.

                “I’m fine, really. I’ve had worse.” She looked up at me again, and I could tell she was hiding how much she really wanted to just crumble and sob.

                “Hey, are you okay?” she looked up at me like she finally realized that I had probably seen that encounter.

                “I-I’m fine, I just…I need to get to class.” I looked down at her, rubbing her elbows and looking anywhere but at me.

                “No, you can’t go to class, you need to calm down first.” She glared at me.

                “I’m fine, I’m calm. Can I go, now?”

                “Nope.”

                She sighed, obviously exasperated. Meanwhile, I was having an internal debate on whether or not I should act on what I was thinking about doing. _Why not?_ I thought.

                “I’m going to do something.” She finally looked up at me.

                “Don’t hit me,” I pleaded with her. She stared at me, confused.

                Slowly, as if approaching at cornered animal, I walked towards her. She put her hands up, but I kept waking forward until I had enveloped her in a hug with my chin resting in her hair. She stiffened at first, but soon relaxed into my arms. She clutched my shirt in her fists and cried. Soon, though, her legs wobbled and went weak.

                I scooped her up, bridal style, and sank down myself. I sat on the floor, legs crossed, Clary cradled in my arms. She buried her head into my chest and sobbed. I pretended not to notice her hiccups and sobs, but it broke my heart to see anyone (not just Clary, of course) hurt like this. I stroked her hair and rubbed her back for a while.

                Eventually, her sobs quieted and her breathing evened out. She looked up at me with red eyes, and, I could tell, some embarrassment.

                “Thanks.” I nodded. I wanted really badly to ask about what he been saying to her. Clary, in all the time I had known her, seen her, she had never shown so much as a hint of sadness. She usually didn’t show any emotion around people other than my sister, Izzy, Simon, and her brothers.

                She looked at me, her emerald gaze burning into mine. For a while, we just sat there, looking at each other. All too soon for my taste, she blinked, looked around, and stood up. She cleared her throat before speaking.

                “We should get to class.” I stood up.

                “Yes, our project awaits.” We walked down the hall to class in silence.

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Clary POV:

                I was inwardly mortified about my little meltdown. Why did it have to happen in front of Jace of all people?

                With great difficulty, I turned my thoughts to the project. We were behind; we didn’t have anything done, which means that we were going to have to work on t outside of school. Oh, crap. That means I have to face him for an extended period of time. I have to interact with the arrogant guy in front of whom I just broke down about some idiot’s words. I’m going to practice my sarcasm:

                Awesome.

                How’d I do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS!!!!!This is officially the longest chapter I have ever written. This chapter is exactly: 2,274 words, not including this author’s note. Hope you like it. REVIEW PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!! I added some Clace fluff:)  
>  -Phoenix


	7. Project

Clary POV:

                I talked to Jace about meeting him at his house an hour after school ended, then he would drive me home, before blushing about even talking to him at all and practically running away from him. I was still freaking out about my little meltdown. I felt like a complete wuss. At least I didn’t faint or lose a shoe running away or something; that would have made me a complete, helpless princess. I sighed, wanting to ignore my problems, but knowing I can’t. I shook my head at myself; I was starting to sound like a dramatic teenager. I rolled my eyes and called my brother, Jon.

                “Perfection is speaking.” Of course that’s how Jonathan would answer his phone.

                “We all know you’re not perfection, you shouldn’t lie to children.” I smiled; I knew he was feigning hurt somewhere.

                “You, my own sister, have injured me.”

                “Well…only your ego.”

                “True,” he conceded, “What’s up?”

                “Well, I’m working on a project with…someone, and I’m going over to his house, so-”

                “Wait a minute,” he interrupted me, “’his house’?” It’s a _he_?”

                “Yes, Jon, I do occasionally interact with the opposite gender.” I sighed in mock patience.

                “No, you don’t. I ‘forbided’ it.” He stated.

                “’Forbided’ it?” I mocked him, “I think you mean _forbade_.”

                “I forbided it and that’s the least I want to hear about males ever! You are not allowed to see any males, you will walk around blindfolded from them and escorted by four armed bodyguards.”

                “Okay, so I can’t see you, Seb, or Luke either?” I chuckled at his absurdity.

                “Hmm, that does throw a wrench in things. Alright, I concede. You need a ride there?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine, I surrender with the condition that if you are not home at 6:59 on the dot, I will come over, guns blazing.”

                “An empty threat, but point taken. I’ll be home at seven.” I then proceeded to hang up on him.

                “6:59, Clary! 6:5-”

                “Yeah, yeah Jon.” I rolled my eyes and hung up, cutting him off. I smiled to myself, he was a dork, but he was my brother and I’m happy with that. I drove home with Simon.

                “So, Clary, I have a question—”

                “Infectious Bacteria is a horrible band name,” I said immediately. He was still in his band, and they were still looking for a name. He grinned at me.

                “No, something else—not about the band.” He cut off my statement of how Noisy Blackboards was even worse.

                “Oh, then what’s up?” I asked him.

                “Well, I want to ask Isabelle to the Fall Dance, and—”

                “WHAT?!?!?!??!?!?!” I screeched. I had been trying to get him to ask her out to a dance, you know, in public, and he finally will. I’m going to say it now: I totally love and ship Sizzy. They are adorable.

                “Yeah, so I was wondering…how should I do it?” I was grinning wildly now, my smile splitting my face in two. I was so happy for him.

                “You just need to ask her. It doesn’t have to be ridiculously planned out and dramatic, really; the question itself will be special. But, just do it on your own, not in the middle of a bunch of people.”

                He nodded slowly.

                “I think I know what I’m going to do.”

                I smiled brightly at him, and then focused back on the road.

I dropped him off and dragged myself up to my house and then my room.

I threw by bag on my bed and flopped onto it myself with my face buried in the comforter and my curls splayed about wildly for a few seconds. I tried to calm myself down. My emotions were really on a roller coaster today: first, broken hearted crying, then heart bursting happiness.

I flipped onto my back, sat up, dug my sketchbook out of my bag, and flopped back down again. I opened it up and stared at the drawing.

The memory surged up and I was lost.

_“This is for your own good. You need to learn to obey your father.” The man tossed me into my room and slammed the door shut behind him._

_He aimed a kick at my stomach. When his foot connected with my ribcage the third time, I whimpered. I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out from between my tightly closed lips._

_The man stopped his assault for a split second before grabbing my hair in his fist and yanked me up to look him in the eye._

_“Now, now Clarissa, you mustn’t show fear or pain to anyone.” Seven year old me nodded my head frantically, not daring to make another sound. The man pursed his lips and shook his head, almost sadly, at me._

_“I’m sorry dear, but I don’t believe you have that much control. Your bitch of a mother never did. You’re useless, just like her.”_

_He flung me back down to the floor._

_“Oh well, practice makes perfect, you know.”_

_I stayed there, refusing to acknowledge his words, curled up like a ball, hoping that if I became small enough I would disappear. Silent tears made their way from my green eyes down my face, but my mouth was set in a hard line, stiff from the effort not to make any sound whatsoever._

I was snatched from my thoughts by my phone buzzing at me because of the alarm I had set to get ready to see Jace. I sighed.

I got up and walked to my brother’s room stuffing my sketchbook back into my bag as I went.

                “Jon! I need that ride now!” I wandered around the hallway and into his room where I found him lounging on a beanbag chair playing Call of Duty and yelling at the other players.  

                “No, stupid! I said go left! Left! I’m going to shoot you myself if you don’t find a brain in that big head of yours.”

                “Jon.” No response

                “Jon!” Still nothing from my idiot brother.

                “JONATHAN CHRISTOPHER MORGENSTERN!”

                “Yeah?” He looked up at me with a blank expression. I shook my head at him…and people say _I_ get lost in my own world, I’m nothing compared to him.

                “Ride?” I prompted. He looked confused for a split second, brow furrowed, then his face smoothed out in clarity. No, not Clary; clarity.

                “Oh, yeah.” He jumped up and rummaged around for his keys. I sighed and held them up, dangling them in front of his face. He snatched them from me and glared at me, playfully. I did the mature thing and stuck my tongue out at him.

                We jumped into the car and he half-turned his body to look at me.

                “So, whose house are we going to this evening?” I didn’t meet his eyes, twirling a curl of my hair around my index finger.

                “Um….it’s Jace…Lightwood,” I said in a small voice. He stared at me for a few seconds before speaking.

                “No, Clary…just, no. He’s bad news, stay away from him, Clary. Do you hear me?”

                “Yeah, I know Jon, but, I don’t have a choice. It’s for school. But, after the project is done…well, you aren’t the only one who sincerely wishes that I never saw him again.”

                “What do you mean?” Jon frowned in confusion. I thought about my meltdown in the hallway, grimacing.

                “Never mind, it’s nothing. I know about his reputation, I’ll stay away.” Jon looked pretty relieved, but he was still tense.

                “Jonathan, I’ll be fine.” He sighed.

                “I know, I just worry about you.”

                “Yeah.” _Everybody does,_ I thought to myself, “Yeah, I know.” We drove the rest of the way in silence.

                We reached his house in no time, since Jon had been there before. Football friends, I guess. And Jonathan is friends with Alec, Jace’s brother.

                I walked up the stairs to a huge, Gothic looking house. When I say huge, I mean absolutely ginormous. I knocked quickly, and no sooner than I had dropped my hand, the door opened. I stepped back in shock. I had been looking up, slightly, expecting to come face to face with Jace, Alec, or even Izzy. But, no. I came face to face with their little brother, Max.

                “You’re short,” he commented as greeting. I looked at him, and considered pointing out that he was vertically challenged as well, but I didn’t want to make a horrible first impression.

                “I know,” I said simply. He stepped aside to let me in. I walked in, ignoring Jonathan snickering at our exchange from the car before he drove off.

                “I’m here-”

                “For Jace, I know.” He cut me off and pointed down the hallway before rushing off in the opposite direction.

                “In a hurry?”

                “Can’t talk, finishing comic,” he didn’t even glance at me and kept on his way, leaving me in the middle of the hallway.

                “Where’s Jace?” I asked, hoping for detailed directions or a guide.

                “Follow the cat,” was all he said. To anyone else this would have been even more confusing, but I knew enough about the Lightwoods from Simon dating Izzy to know that their cat, Church, was somewhat of a guide when you needed to find someone.

                I walked up to the cat, splayed out in a patch of sunlight.

                “Hey, Church, where’s Jace?” He lifted his head to glare at me for disturbing his peace and quiet. Then, he stretched out even further on his back, clearly asking for a stomach rubbing.

                “You’re lucky I’m a pushover,” I muttered as I knelt down to stroke his belly.

                “Who’s a pushover?” asked a voice from behind me. I almost fell over from my crouching position in my surprise and haste to get up. When I finally managed to struggle to my feet, I spun around and came face to face with the person I was originally looking for. Well, okay, it was more of face to chest since he was about nine inches taller than me and he was a lot closer than I expected. I stared up at him before stuttering out an explanation.

                “Um, I am…I guess. Church was practically guilting me into petting him, so I did.” He stared down at Church, who was now glaring at him with one eye open.

                “At least you’re not feeding him anything, Isabelle thinks she’s pampering him with all the food, but really it’s animal abuse in disguise,” he stated, “especially with her cooking,” He added as an afterthought.

                “My cooking is fan-flipping-tastic,” added in a new voice. I looked over my shoulder to see Isabelle standing there with a cooking spoon in her hand pointing directly at Jace.

                “And you are going to enjoy it because I made soup for dinner.” She glared accusingly at Jace. Under her stare, anyone else, myself included, would have been intimidated, but Jace just grimaced at the prospect of eating her cooking.

                “Raziel, save us.” He muttered under his breath.

                “What was that, brother dear?” demanded Izzy.

                “I said I’m not hungry, and neither is Red, here.” He grabbed my arm and made to get away, but I stood firmly in my spot.

                “My name is still Clary,” I said in annoyance, “not Red, not ‘little girl’. Clary.”

                “Careful Jace,” Izzy smirked,” she might be more stubborn than you are.” She walked away with a chuckle.

                Jace looked over me with one eyebrow raised. I scowled at both his obvious lack of faith in my stubbornness and the fact that he could even do that with his eyebrow.

                “Stubborn are we?” He half asked, half stated.

                “I’m worse than my brothers.” I smirked at him. His eyes widened. My brothers were famous school wide for their stubbornness and refusal to budge once they had dug their heels in. Well, I grew up with them; I had to hold my own somehow, so I beat them at their own game.

                “Interesting.” He turned and walked upstairs without looking back to see if I was following.

                “What’s interesting?” I demanded when I reached the top of the stairs behind him. He spun around and looked me square in the eye.

                “You are. Very interesting, in fact.” He walked away again, leaving me sprinting to catch up to him, blushing violently. I was, once again, confused by Jace Lightwood. He makes no sense.

                He stops abruptly and I don’t understand why until he reaches past me to a door and opens it.

                “This is my room,” he says softly in my ear, and I can’t help but shy away from him, using my ‘interest’ in his room as an excuse to get away from him. I try to be casual about my escape, but I don’t think he buys it because he smirks at me and the color spreading through my cheeks.

                His room is clean, almost clinical. White walls and white sheets. My fingers itched to draw him in his room: gold against white, the only color in a cold an impersonal setting. I caught myself staring at him and him staring right back. I spun around, blushing yet again.

                “Where’s the bathroom?” I mumbled. He smirked and I looked at my toes. He gestured down the hallway and I dropped my bag on the floor and rushed down that direction to pull myself together. This was seriously unlike me to be flustered in front of other guys. I was known at school for almost breaking a guy’s wrist because he touched me, then completely breaking it when he tried to touch another girl. You mess with me, well, I don’t get even, I get ahead. But, if you mess with my friends, you are going down.

                I reached the bathroom and stared at my reflection, bracing my hands on the chipped porcelain sink.

                _Get yourself together, now!_ I silently berated myself. I took deep breaths, chanting the same sentence in my head like a hymn, like a prayer. _Get in, get it done, and get out_. I didn’t want Jace to know anything about me; I didn’t want anyone to know anything about me unless I wanted them to know. And, right now, I don’t want him to know.

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Jace POV:

                I sat on my bed and ran my fingers through my hair. I smirked to myself remembering how easily the redhead had blushed when I invaded her personal space. Her eyes had dropped, hiding her face behind her hair, and her hands curled into fists.

                I flopped down on my bed, my long limbs hanging off the bed. My hand brushed fabric and I looked over to find her bag on the floor. I grabbed the strap and hoisted it up so it wasn’t just lying on the floor and a book fell out. Being the curious bastard that I am, I dropped the bag on the bed and leafed through the pages.

                It was a sketchbook, Clary’s, I assumed. She was good, really good. The attention put into the details and the use of color and style was astounding. I flipped through a few more pages and stopped dead at the last one.

                It was a drawing of two people, one man, and one girl. The man had white hair and a sturdy build; he was standing tall with a belt in his hand. He wasn’t smiling, just standing there with a fake grim look plastered on his face like he was doing something he secretly enjoyed but couldn’t let it show. The girl…was Clary. She was cowering down, curled in on herself facing the man, but with her sad, green eyes cast down. Where the man was all bright and sharp edges, Clary was dark and in curled up in the corner shadows. Even her vibrant red hair was muted.

                From one look at the terror and hopelessness on Clary’s sketched face, I could tell what she was afraid of: her father. I put all the clues I had known together and finally realized what had such a strong girl on the run, I knew what those alleged nightmares featured and why she wore dark, unnoticeable clothes like she was hiding. It was because she was hiding, from her past, and from her own flesh and blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun, dun, DUN!! So, now Jace knows, should Clary find out that he knows? Or is he gonna do the ‘protect her from afar’ thing? We’ll see, please review. And, by the way, this chapter is even longer than the last one; it kind of got away from me. Not including this author’s note, it is 2,709 words!!!! PLEASE REVIEW, it makes me update faster!  
>  -Phoenix


	8. Just Putting Out A Fire

Jace POV

                I heard the door open and quickly shoved the book back into her bag. Trying to act casual, I crossed my arms behind my head, lying back on my bed’s headboard.

                Clary walked in, chin in the air and her jaw set. She held a confident and stubborn pose like she was steeling herself for something that she wasn’t looking forward to doing. The only thing that betrayed her was her eyes. They darted around nervously before finally coming to rest on me.

                I expected her to blush, giggle, and look away like most girls did when I looked at them directly. Instead, she squared her shoulders and looked right back at me.

                “Alright, where should we start?” she asked me. I blinked, she was so forward.

                “Well, the assignment is something that makes us unique, right? So, to get an A, which I’m guessing you care about, we need to do something that sets us apart.” She glanced at me, and then began to pace, chin in her hand.

                “You’re right; I do want an A, and we do need to be different. Other people are going to do some sort of symbol that represents them, something that represents a moment in their lives. That’s what regular teachers would want, something, like that, but—”

                “—but, Mrs. Fischer isn’t a regular teacher.” I finished her thoughts for her.

                “Exactly, she’s…well, nuts,” she admitted honestly. I chuckled. I inwardly shrugged, I knew she had never disrespected teachers or said a word against them, but Mrs. Fischer was definitely off her rocker to say the least.

                “So, something different could be…I don’t know. Something that’s not a symbol.” She continued pacing.

                “Well, we could take this freakishly literally and actually make a drawing, painting, or sketch of a moment in our lives,” I suggested. She stopped in place, turning the idea over and over in her head.

                “That could work.” She acquiesced. I thought about what I would do, and then realized that the only thing that was going to get me a decent grade was something painfully personal.

                “But,” I began, and she glanced at me in apprehension, “no questions about anything we might draw unless we offer up the information freely.” She nodded quickly, eyes big.

                “Same thing for me,” she agreed.

                “All right, let’s get started.” I prompted. She stopped chewing on her lip and began to rummage around in her bag, pulling out her sketchbook. She glanced up at me as I watched her.

                “Uh…listen, this is kind of personal, so…please don’t look at it.” She requested hesitantly. I felt guilty.

                “Sure, no problem, Red.” She glared at me.

                “Are we going to have this conversation again? My name’s not Red, you know that.” She said. I got up and approached her, quietly, taking my time to make her uncomfortable.

                “Are you going to remind me what your name is, little girl?” I stared down at her, smirking. She glared right back up, both eyebrows raised.

                “You’re thicker than I thought if you can’t remember something I told you at least twice today alone.” She stated.

                “Maybe I just like calling you different things,” I whispered and took a curl of her hair, studying it closely.

                “And maybe,” she started, “I’ll break your wrist if you don’t stop touching my hair. So, if you want to keep those fingers attached to the rest of you, I suggest you keep your hands off me,” she smiled angelically up at me. I smirked, but didn’t let go of her hair.

When I didn’t back away, she reached a hand up and curled her small fingers around my neck, bringing me closer. She was still smiling innocently up at me as my breath caught at our close proximity. She raised her eyebrows and her smile turned devious. I didn’t see her move, but suddenly I was gasping for air as she kneed me in the stomach as hard as she could. I released her hair and moved away, clutching my ribs.

“Point taken…Clary,” I gasped out, not losing my smirk. She turned away, but not before I could see her blush at my use of her name and the grin she tried to hide.

“Okay then,” she said, “now that we’ve gotten that sorted out…let’s get started.”

We both sat down on my bed and began.

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Clary POV:

                I was perched cautiously on the edge the bed with my sketchbook balanced on my knees, pencil poised and hovering over the paper. I set the tip to the paper, paused, and then drew it back again, chewing on my lip.

                _I got nothing,_ I realized.

                “Me neither,” Jace stated from beside me. I furrowed my brow in confusion before coming to the conclusion that I had spoken aloud. I sighed in frustration and tossed my sketchbook from my lap to the bed.

                “I don’t…do what I do on command.” I felt frustrated and a little embarrassed that I couldn’t manage to do the thing that I loved the most. I sighed and flopped back onto his bed. I could feel him staring at me. I glanced over and saw him looking at me, just looking.

                When we made eye contact, I had to suppress the urge to tear my gaze away and look anywhere but him. I couldn’t hold off the blush that flooded my cheeks no matter how much I tried.

                I held his gaze and slowly sat up. I couldn’t stop studying his golden eyes as they bore into mine. As mesmerizing as his gaze was, I eventually wrenched my own away to stare back at my face.

                “Anyways…” I breathed, trying to pull the attention back to our project. I saw him smirk at me as if he knew how uncomfortable he I was under his scrutiny. He probably did. I slowly breathed in and out, trying to control my nerves.

                He was gorgeous, I knew it, he definitely knew it. But, he had a less-than-flattering reputation. Basically, he was an ass. I wasn’t going to fall victim to his ‘charms’. I wasn’t going to be another girl in his long line of…well, girls.

                “So, for this project, I was thinking that we could integrate both of our sketches so that they meant something, you know?” I left my train of thought hanging there for him to pick up on. His smirk grew, and I steeled myself for one of the scathing, sarcastic remarks he was famous for, but got none. I looked over and saw him with his pencil scratching over the paper. His hair was swept in front of his face, hiding it from my view so I couldn’t see his expression, but I imagined it was one of intense concentration.

                I leaned over to get a peek at what he was drawing. It looked like foreign designs spreading across the page, spiraling from the tip of his pencil. They looked like a mix betweens something utterly foreign, Egyptian hieroglyphs, and Chinese characters. The individual designs were thick lined and heavily shaded with graceful curves and the occasional flourish flowing off the center of the character. They reminded me of a long forgotten language with its own alphabet and expression.

                “They’re runes.” Jace answered my silent question. “One time, years ago, I decided to research forgotten languages and writing and stumbled across this one. I have no idea where it comes from. I only found pieces of information mentioning a race sent to Earth to protect us from the demons of every culture and religion.”

                He pointed at one in the left corner of the page, still looking down.

                “This one means strength,” he crossed to the other side and gestured at another one, “and this one stands for remembrance and mourning.” He spoke in hushed tones, no more than a whisper.

                “Is there one for fearlessness?” I questioned. I could definitely make use of a lack of fear. He shook his head, the first genuine smile I’d ever seen from him pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“No, there isn’t.” I leaned back, in concentration, then, acting on an impulse, reached again and took the paper and pencil from his hands, grazing his long fingers in the process.

                I barely noticed the contact as I was wrapped up in my own mind desperately clinging to a shred of an image I had imagined.

                I set the pencil to the page and moved it along, just barely making a mark at first then thickening it as I grew more confident. I flicked my wrist at the tailed off endings and followed the curves as delicately as I could until I felt it was finished.

                I pulled the pencil back and glanced up at Jace who was still staring at the drawing I had just completed. I labeled it: _fearless_ , then set it down.

                “Well,” I began, chewing on my lip at his lack of response, “now there is one.”

                “Now, there is,” he repeated, shifting his gaze up to stare into my eyes once more.

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**Time skip**

Clary’s POV:

                I was dreading the morning…for several reasons. First, I had to go to school, that alone was enough to put a damper on my day. Second, I had to face Jace…again. Third, Ethan. Enough said. I knew today was going to suck, so I decided to keep my head down and try to draw as little attention to myself as possible.

                Knowing my luck, that wasn’t going to happen.

                I got school and immediately pulled my hood up to hide my face. I looked around cautiously…and sighed. Jace was looking at me. Well, more like smirking at me. I got the feeling that he knew what I was trying to do.

                I scowled at him from across the parking lot. He winked back at me. I stuck my tongue out at him because that’s what mature adults do, right?

I hurried down the pavement to Izzy and Simon’s side…which, unfortunately, was right next to Jace. Well, at least it was better than being trapped with Ethan.

“Clary,” Izzy’s attention snapped me out of my thoughts, “you’re birthday is in a week. Do you know what that means?” I sighed, knowing where she was going with this.

“…that I get an entire day of hanging around with you and Simon, my two best friends, and my brothers because they wouldn’t leave me alone anyways?” I prompted hopefully. Iz shot me a look.

“No. It means that we are going shopping!” I groaned, knowing Izzy, I would be running around a mall from the better part of my day. I looked from Simon to Alec, then to Magnus.

“Don’t let the Iz take me,” I pleaded jokingly. We had a running joke about how Izzy can get anyone to do anything when she was in her intimidating Iz mode.

“Sorry, Clare, no one can resist Iz.” Alec chuckled at my fake display of fear.

I made a big show of looking disappointed and afraid for my life before sighing and giving in.

“Fine, Iz, but I swear if you make me buy anything that makes me look even shorter than I am, I will take one boot from every pair of boots you have so you have to find them again and fill them with Magnus’s glitter so they don’t match anymore,” I threatened her, laughing so she could see I was kidding.

“You wouldn’t.”She glared at me, obviously imagining her life without her gigantic collection of beloved boots. I raised my eyebrows and smiled cunningly in challenge.

“I make no promises.” She stated before wrapping her arm around Simon’s waist and leading him away to their first class.

I chuckled at their retreating forms. I felt pressure on my head and looked up to see Magnus resting his arm in my hair, effectively reminding me of how short I was compared to, well, everyone.

“What was that about stealing my glitter stash?” He glared at me, wrapping his other arm around Alec. I laughed and spun away from his arm not looking where I was going. As my luck would have it, I ran into something, or someone.

I craned my neck up, expecting to gaze up into luminous golden eyes. Instead, I found myself staring into muddy brown eyes that were a little too close for comfort. Ethan.

I jerked away, this time it _was_ into Jace. I wanted to apologize to Jace and glare at Ethan defiantly, but, my body wasn’t responding. My eyes stayed locked on Jace even as he addressed Ethan.

“Watch where you’re walking, Evan.” Jace said it quietly, but it was received as it was; a thinly veiled threat.

“My name is Ethan,” Ethan corrected haughtily, but Jace wasn’t even listening, he was dragging me away by the elbow. I snapped to my senses and tried to jerk my arm away, but he held on.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded. He smirked, still not looking at me directly.

“First period, Re—Clary,” He finished after I glared at him pointedly, “or did you not hear the five minute bell?” I shut my mouth; I hadn’t heard the bell actually. I was…distracted, to say the least.

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                I was breathing hard. My gym class was playing dodgeball, and Ethan was on the opposite team. So, guess who my target was. That’s right, Ethan is going down hard. My team usually won dodgeball, nobody else had caught up to it yet, but I was good a dodgeball. I was quick, small, and, most importantly, underestimated. No one targeted me. That was fine by me.

                I was moving as fast as I could until I could get a clean shot at Ethan, even if I got out on an illegal head shot. I was past the point of being civil towards that slimeball.

                _Faster, faster, faster._ I urged myself to move quicker than I already was. Thankfully, I have pretty good instincts and even better reflexes because, targeted or not, the other team had every good player except for Jace, and the crowd on our side was thinning quickly.

                I moved to the corner, ducking a few projectiles when I found my shot. He was slightly turned away from me. I took a breath, and threw it as hard as I could. It hurtled through the air and hit him squarely in the side.

                Out. He was out.

                Almost half of his team turned towards me and focused their fury on my corner. Apparently, they don’t like their star playing getting out because of a five foot nothing redhead girl. I barely had time to think, _oh shit_ before a dozen plastic balls bombarded me. Being the stubborn redhead that I am, I did everything I could to stay in the game. I dodged and weaved everything that came at me, though I didn’t catch anything. Whereas most people had an instinct to catch things, my instincts screamed; _get out of the freaking way before it hits you!_

                I took a breath and decided that if I was going to survive this game and the ones to come I was going to have to learn a new skill. I let my breath out and jumped in the way of a ball. I brought my hands up and they closed around the ball. I looked up, the guy who had thrown it was stunned….he was also out of the game. I grinned, this was fun. From then on, I was basically a ninja, not to brag.

                Finally, I was one of three in on my team facing down the 10+ on the other side. I glanced around, Aline, Jace, and me. Jace caught my eye…and winked. _What?_ I wondered, before dodging another onslaught of offensive tactics from the other team. Suddenly, Jace was there by my side.

                We moved quickly, working flawlessly together to beat the other team down. Alone, we were vulnerable. Together, we had a second defense, a second pair of eyes, and a second offense.

                Together, we OWNED that court. Aline had gotten out long ago (she had only stayed in by hiding in the corner and shrieking each time a ball came near her), and it was finally down to Jace, me, and one more person on the other side. He was Ethan’s best friend, and he was pissed. At me. (More than likely because I had gotten Ethan out) Oops. He was out of ammunition, and we were loaded.

                I half turned to Jace and smirking, tilted my head towards the other guy; _you want to do the honors?_ I silently asked. He grinned back his consent, then his eyes widened. I followed his gaze to see one more ball was hurtling towards me. _He must have hidden it behind his back_. I thought. I froze, locked in place. I could only watch; eyes wide with fear as the plastic ball that looked so much like a glass bowl my father had once flung at my head with frightening strength and anger drew closer every second. It was eye level, and moving fast enough to knock me over. It was definitely an illegal shot.

                I cringed back as it neared only to watch as a golden hand shot out and grabbed it inches from my nose. I looked over to see Jace, with his brow furrowed in concentration and golden eyes trained on me, grasping the dodge ball that had almost knock me unconscious.

                He then flung that ball back at its original owner and he was declared out.

                I grasped my ribs as my breath came in short pants and grinned at Jace who looked almost more energized after 45 minutes of playing as hard as we possibly could. His gaze shifted to me and we stood there grinning at each other before the bell rang and we had to leave class.

                Walking out of class, I felt good. It had been freeing, almost therapeutic to shut Ethan down like that. After two years of him not leaving me alone, I was relieved to legally deal out some payback.

                I turned a corner and froze for the second time that day. Ethan was standing there with a murderous look on his face and his hands balled into fists. I glanced around wildly, looking for someone or something to defend myself with.

Just as his fingers fisted in my shirt I brought the first object I had reached cracking down on his shoulder.

A fire extinguisher. He let go with a yell and I swung it again, this time catching him across the head. Not enough force to seriously injure him, but enough to make him fall to the ground.

“What happened here?” demanded a voice from behind me. I spun around, my red locks splaying across my shoulders to find Jace standing behind me looking utterly confused.

“What are you doing with that?” He asked, his eyes flicking from unconscious Ethan to the fire extinguisher held high in my hands, to my emerald eyes sparking in fading panic.

I looked up at the fire extinguisher. There really was no good explanation to what I would need a fire extinguisher for.

“I was just, you know, uh, thought I saw a…fire?” He glanced at me amused and incredulous at my outright lie.

“A fire.” He repeated, starting to grin.

“Yep,” I set the fire extinguisher down, “just putting out a fire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, this chapter is ginormous for me, it’s exactly 3,255 words!!!! :D The fire extinguisher idea came from my awesome reviewer PJO.HOO.TMI who coincidentally has my favorite series in your name! Thank you to everyone. I decided to do the ‘protect from afar’ thing because that’s what people wanted! I’m going to try and do two other storied that I have ideas for, check them out, both are TMI but my other stories are PJO/HOO, thanks for everything, I’ll try to update soon. KUDOS/COMMENTS = CHAPTERS  
>  -Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> I first posted this FF.net so I am working to keep both up to date


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